


Night Moves

by outoftheashes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Angst and Feels, Coming Untouched, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, Dom Drop, Dom Sam Winchester, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flogging, Impact Play, M/M, Post-Hell, Spanking, Sub Dean Winchester, Wincest Writing Challenge, well sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 16:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/pseuds/outoftheashes
Summary: Usually after a near fatal hunt they get drunk and watch terrible movies together, just enjoying each other's company.Tonight isn't one of those nights.





	Night Moves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chocolatedragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatedragon/gifts), [Deadmockingbirds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadmockingbirds/gifts), [multishippinglover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/multishippinglover/gifts), [troubleseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/gifts), [omgbubblesomg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/gifts).



> Written for the Wincest Writing Challenge, round 19. 
> 
> Theme: kinks
> 
> Prompt: d/s
> 
> Partner: wxncesters

  
Usually after a near fatal hunt they get drunk and watch terrible movies together, just enjoying each other's company.  
  
Tonight isn’t one of those nights.  
  
Sam crashes his mouth against Dean’s, not holding back. Isn't gentle or sweet. "Get on the bed, Dean."

Dean groans softly. Instead of obeying, he wraps his arms around Sam's neck and kisses him harder.

Sam growls into Dean’s mouth and slams him against the wall of their motel room. "I said _get_ on the bed."

Dean's breath hitches and he looks up into Sam’s eyes. He withdraws from Sam and walks backwards to the bed, taking off his shirt and pants. They fall to the floor and he crawls onto the bed with his ass high in the air.

"Yes," Sam hisses, admiring the view for a moment before closing in on his brother. He runs his fingertips along Dean’s perky backside, humming softly. "I wanna hurt you."

 “I want you to.” Dean _trembles_ as he speaks, letting Sam know just how needy he is. Both of them waited far too long to do another scene. They'd waited too long to  touch each other in ways that aren't particularly brotherly.

Sam nips at Dean's ass. "How should I hurt you?" he muses, mostly to himself.

Dean's hands clutch the thin motel bedspread. "Any way you want, Sammy."

"That's the answer I like to hear," he says softly, pressing Dean's cheeks apart so he can look at his hole. He groans when he sees the plug. “What makes you think it's a good idea to wear a fucking _plug_ during a case, huh? God, Dean. That's fucking -"

“Filthy?” Dean supplies, happily squirming beneath him. “Am I in trouble? C’mon, Sammy. Take out the plug and use me. Break me in some more.”

 “No way.” Even as he speaks the words, though, he gently tugs on the plug, removing it from his brother.

 “Really? Kinda seems like you are.”

 Sam swats him. “ _Yeah_. The plug, smartass. Not fucking you, though. Just lemme see.”  

“Well at least hurt me! Said you were gonna! Nobody likes a tease, dude,” Dean says, impatience growing. Sam can see it in the way he's holding his body as well as his voice. The anticipation excites both of them. Although _maybe_ Sam more than Dean.

Sam spanks Dean’s hole. "Your job is to take what I give you unless you can't. Not get mouthy. What does being naughty get you, Dean?"

 “Ah! Time out.”

"Exactly. Do you _want_ a time out?" Sam asks, stroking Dean's hole. "Or do you want attention?"

A soft whine leaves Dean's throat. "I want attention _please_ ,” he pants, pushing his ass into Sam's touch.

“Mm. Okay. Should give you a bunch of spankings. Fuck you up with my hand.”

 “Bring it on, Sammy.”

 Sam rolls his eyes. “Don't know why you insist on calling me that.”

"Because you love it? C’mon, dude. You don't tell a guy ‘only he gets to call me that’ if it's a nickname you hate,” Dean says smugly.

 “Oh my god. That was _years_ ago.”

 “Yeah, and look at you. Still obsessed.”

 “Whatever.” Sam rolls his eyes and sits down on the bed. “Lay across my lap.”

 “You’re cranky cause I’m right,” Dean teases before moving into position.

 “Hold your cheeks apart,” Sam says, tapping Dean’s ass.

 “Oh fuck. Okay.” Dean does, body tensing.

Sam draws his hand back and swats Dean’s hole _hard_ , harder than his previous spankings.

Dean yelps. "I love it when you take control. Love those big hands on me.”

Sam spanks him again, not wanting Dean to catch his breath too much. "What else do you like?"

"Aahh! Your cock. Fucking wake up in the night craving it. I love the weight of it in my mouth. I love how it fills me up."

 “Fucking eager,” Sam says fondly, moving on to Dean's cheeks, making his ass nice and red and _perfect_ . The redder Dean’s ass gets, the more he moves into the line of fire. _Wanting it_ . Needing the pain. Sam's never been with anyone who gets off on pain as much as Dean does. Although he supposes it's unfair to compare. Not many humans have been to Hell and back. Not ones that are _still_ human. “I love giving it to you.”

 The rest of it remains unsaid. This is the closest either of them get to admitting, well, anything. Surely you don't have sex with a sibling unless you really _really_ care about them, right? Right?

  _Maybe I'm just kidding myself._

 “Sam! Hey, Sammy… keep going, yeah? You aren't daydreaming while spankin’ me are ya? Cause… you're sure waiting a long time to give me another hit,” Dean pants, wiggling on Sam's lap, trying to get friction for his cock.

 “You’re making a mess on my pants, you know.” Sam hits Dean once, twice, three times. “A damp spot that keeps growing. Better not come.”

 “Are you fucking serious?” Dean whines, then yelps when Sam doesn't hold back, still alternating between his cheeks. “ _Sam_ , that's fucking _impossible_.”

 "Language,” Sam teases, the swats coming even faster, almost overlapping. “Good boys don't talk like that.”

 “Eat my ass, Sam,” Dean says, trying to sound pissed but his dick gives him away. It twitches with interest against Sam.

 “Maybe later,” Sam muses. He spreads Dean's cheeks, giving him another swat on his open and sensitive hole.

 “Sam!” Dean says, crying out his release and making an even bigger mess all over Sam’s pants. It's worth it. So worth it. “You bastard, I almost did it!”  

 “Yeah,” Sam agrees, chuckling. “But not quite. Know what that means?”

 “Course I do. You're gonna hurt me some more.” Dean moves onto the floor, giving Sam a wicked grin before licking up his own come. He lets out a low groan, making a show of it. Once most of it is gone Dean nuzzles at Sam's crotch with an even deeper moan and unbuttons Sam's jeans, quickly pulling out Sam's dick. He kisses the tip, cleaning the precome gathered there before gently sucking on it with a relieved, happy noise. Sam's dick _throbs_ and he grits his teeth, clinging to control.

“Not with my cock, I'm not.” Sam grips Dean’s chin, making sure their eyes meet. "Gonna find a toy for you. Be good.”  
  
‘Good’ means still. It means not looking for friction. It means presenting on the bed. There are times when Dean disobeys. He likes seeing how far he can take it before Sam snaps. Sam knows he does. If they were an established thing instead of ‘sometimes’ Sam figures it wouldn't be like this. Dean wouldn't be such a bratty sub.  
  
But calling dibs is easier said than done. Where is the how to guide on incestuous relationships? Sam hasn't found it.  
  
So he takes what he can get.  
  
Sam grins as his eyes land on a black leather flogger with an all black weaved handle. He tucks his dick back into his pants. Somehow. _God_ , a part of him really doesn't want to. He wants to fuck Dean's sweet mouth, watch his eyes well up with tears as he tries to take him _all_.

 Well. The night isn't over yet. There's still time.

 "Found just the thing," he murmurs as he brings the flogger back to Dean. He drags the ends along Dean's flaming ass, teasing him.  
  
“Oh, fuck yes.”  
  
“Yeah.” Sam pauses, tsking playfully. “I'm not hitting your ass with the flogger if that's what you're thinking.”  
  
“How do you want me?”  
  
"You're right where I want you. I'm just gonna be focusing on your back instead of your poor ass. That's all," Sam murmurs as he gets into position, standing tall with his feet firmly on the ground as he raises the flogger, holding the tails with his other hand.  
  
“ _Yes._ Come on, Sam.”  
  
Sam gently drops his arm, aiming for a specific spot on Dean’s back and succeeding. He hits that same spot a few times before moving his feet so he can strike a different spot.  
  
Dean gives a breathy little yelp every time the flogger hits him. He arches into it, chasing the sting. Always does.  
  
"What do you say?"  
  
Dean rubs his face in the comforter and looks over his shoulder at Sam. “Thank you.”  
  
"You're welcome." Sam licks his lips. "Want more?"  
  
“Yes.”  
  
"God, you sound so pretty when you're hurting," Sam groans. The next set of blows are harder and faster. Like with the spankings, he keeps picking up speed.  
  
A part of him hopes Dean will have marks and another hopes he’ll stay virtually unblemished. It was a constant war with himself. Wanting to hurt and take care of his brother. Wanting to make him cry out in pain and wanting to give him all the good things he could find.  
  
“Are you gonna fuck me after this?”  
  
Sam snorts. “Why would I reward you with my dick after how you've been behaving?” he teases.  
  
“I'll be good! Better!”  
  
“Hmm. I'll think about it.”  
  
Dean nods in response, getting caught up in their scene. Sam can tell because his breathing has changed. He sets to work hitting Dean again, wanting to build up endorphins and that sweet pleasure-pain.  
  
Finally, Dean lets himself be noisy. It's what Sam has been waiting for. That delicious moment where Dean lets go and dives headfirst into the scene, allowing every sensation to wash over him.  
  
But then it's ruined by Sam, _of course_ he ruins it. The flogger wraps around the top of Dean's shoulders, which is a _huge_ no-no. This isn't supposed to happen. A dom should never have to say ‘oops, sorry about that” with flogging.

 But he's left with no choice.

 “Oh shit! Dean! I'm _so_ sorry,” Sam says, hissing in sympathy as he drops the flogger.

“What? Why are you stopping?”

“The flogger wrapped around,” Sam says miserably, sitting down and pulling Dean into his arms. “I’m such an asshole.”

“Yes, you are,” Dean agrees, still deep in subspace. “Mostly cause you stopped. Least I gotta come, I guess.”

Sam's not convinced. “I'm gonna trim the tail. Hope that stops this from happening again.”

“It's fine. I'm fine. Stop bein’ weird. Well. Weirder than usual.” Dean yawns, rolling off Sam's lap yet again. “I want a quick snack. And water. Then sleep.”  
  
Sam rushes to do it for him, wanting to spoil Dean as long as he'll let him.

Turns out it isn't long. Dean falls asleep halfway into his sandwich, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam hurt Dean. He had hurt him in a way he hadn't meant to. And what the hell kind of dom did that?

A shitty one.

So while Dean sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware, Sam stews. By the time he starts drifting off the sun is rising and Dean is stirring beside him. He wants to stay up, wants to bury himself inside Dean. He wants to climb inside his skin and make himself at home there. But his eyes won't stay open any longer.

Sam jerks awake sometime later, his heart racing. He'd been dreaming of hell. But, unlike other nightmares that were closer to memories, this one had included Sam torturing Dean.

_Meat hooks and blood. So much blood._

Dean begging him not to. It had felt so _real_.

He reaches for Dean but he's _not there_. Sam's alone in the bed. And he should be.

 _Monster. You're a monster._  
  
He's as bad as Alastair. He's as bad as anyone who tormented Dean. That's what feels true for him. He's the lowest of the low and Dean should cut his losses and leave for good.

Despite this, he lays there in bed waiting for Dean to return, eyes on the door. Because he's coming back, right? He isn’t _gone_ gone. Right?

"Hey, Sammy,” Dean says as he walks through the door. Then he pauses, the smile falling off his beautiful face. "What happened? What's wrong?”

Sam shakes his head. He doesn’t have it in himself to speak.

Dean abandons the food in his hand and curls his smaller frame around Sam the best he can. “Please. Say something.”

 “I don't know how to find the words,” Sam whispers.

Dean pushes a hand through Sam's hair like how he used to when they were kids  and Sam's stomach twists in guilt. "I can't help you if I don't know what's going on.”

 "I feel like the worst person alive. Was comparing myself to your torturers,” he says, letting the words spill out instead of keeping them for himself.

 Dean freezes but only for a moment before he keeps stroking Sam's hair. “Now why would you think something like that?” His voice is gentle. Soft. Good. It makes it worse, in a way.

"Because I fucked up. I did a shitty thing and hurt you in a way that shouldn't have fucking happened," Sam says, anger seeping through. "Never should have whipped you if there was the possibility I'd mess up. Should have practiced more."

“Look at me.”

“What?” It takes everything in him to listen. To look his brother in the eyes.

"You’re _not_ my torturers." Dean cups Sam's face in his hands and let his thumbs brush his cheek bones. "I _like_ it when you hurt me. You did great.”

“Are you sure?”

Dean kisses Sam's mouth softly. “I like being covered in your marks.”

“If you say so,” Sam replies dubiously.

“You know what this is, right? What you're experiencing?” Dean asks seriously.

Sam shrugs it off. “Does it matter?”

“Of _course_ it matters.” Dean lets out a sigh and sits up. “You're dropping. It's not just a thing subs deal with. Doms can get it too. You feel like shit cause we didn't do enough aftercare last night. I'm sorry, man. I'll do better.”

“You shouldn't _have_ to,” Sam disagrees. “Taking care of you is _my_ job. I'm the dom, this is what I should be able to _do_ -"

“Sam.” Dean reaches out for him, motioning for him to get up. “We're gonna shower together, okay? And then eat breakfast. All the touchy feely shit you want. I don't care what you think you should be able to do - you're wrong about this one, man.”

He wants to keep arguing. He wants to _prove_ to Dean how much of a fuck up he is -

But, instead, he finds himself rolling out of bed. “Yeah. Okay, Dean. Okay.”

It isn't okay. Not really. But when Dean sends Sam a relieved smile he knows it will be.

Eventually.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. :) 
> 
> I'm samanddeaninpanties on tumblr. Come say hi if you want! 
> 
> Thanks to Holly/wearingdeantoprom for all the help!


End file.
